The Long Road
by Selqueyth
Summary: D's path is a long one, and only time knows its end. His past is one shrouded in mystery. And from his past experiences he bases his judgement. But what is that past and who does he share it with?
1. Chapter 1

The road he followed was a long one. It was an unbeaten path grown over with the green of the earth's new grass or brambles. Sometimes it was dry dusty sand or soft treacherous peat of a marsh, but no matter the type it was, it was still the same to D. The end of it was somewhere ahead, lost in a long dark future. Along the path are the obstacles created for him by the vampire kind, those he had sworn to hunt until the end. To his end or theirs, time and his efforts could only tell.

The sun above was hot and blazing, making this section of the journey miserable for him and the horse bearing him. His cloak lay slack and wrapped around him to protection his pale complexion. The air seemed hard to breathe.

A mysterious voice sounded from near the reins. "You should have stayed low in the last town."

D ignored the comment and did not so much as open an eye from underneath the long brim of his dark hat. But it was a swift, warm sandy breeze that did stir him. He opened his eyes and tilted his head in its direction. A sandstorm was approaching.

"There are some small rock outcroppings a mile or so west of here," the voice mentioned.

Luck was on his side for this day, for the sandstorm was a haze approaching from the east. He gently nudged the automated beast of burden with a tap from his heels and turned to the west.

Within the next hour, he and his transportation were protected between two of larger three stones from the hot sandy winds that howled around them. D sat with his back against the rock and his hat brim hung low over his eyes. The roaring winds assailed his ears with many strange howls and whistles that kept him from slumbering.

His ears twitched, however, when one noise among all of it stood out. It was the slight scrapping of stone against stone, something odd for stone to do upon sand that should have swallowed in sandstorms of past. Something beside sand, stone, and wind was nearby.

"We have a guest D," the voice sounded surprised, which in turn roused D's curiosity.

Ears that could make out the faintest of human breathing on the other side of large cities failed to alert him to the silent footfalls of the shadow approaching in front of him. His hand had long since gone to the hilt of his exquisite sword on his back. He would not strike just yet.

A small, white robed and cloaked figure stepped forth into the shelter of ring of stones. The head of the stranger was wrapped in white scarves, and the eyes were hidden by the dark shades of protective goggles.

A voice, soft as velvet, came from underneath the wrappings. "Oh my. You are not human, are you, my friend?"

His countenance was that of an ageless youth, a still white winter night preserved for all time. His beauty was peerless and made any woman, human or mixture otherwise, lose her senses unwilling. An eldritch aura thickly hung about the dhampir and his eyes were demon-haunted. But the air the stranger carried about him or her seemed even more eldritch steeped in a way he had not felt before.Something in D's memory clicked at the sound of that voice, but he could not place his finger on it, and it bothered him greatly. No being has stirred such a reaction from him for long time. His hand did not remove his hand from the hilt. His eyes followed every minute movement of this stranger.

He replied quietly, "No."

The stranger flicked back a portion of the long cloak around him or her. D's sword slid out of his sheath without so much as a hiss and too quick for the human eye. Apparently this stranger's eyes were not human either, for he or she had taken a quick step back with hands raised.

"I have no weapon upon me, stranger. Please lower your weapon."

He did so, but kept it unsheathed. "What do you want?"

From the opening of the cloak, he could see the soft, supple curves the cloth made around the figure. The stranger was female.

"I mistook you for something else. I am sorry." A milk white arm reached out from underneath the billowing folds of her robes with a small water skin in hand. "But might you still need this, I wonder?"

D glanced at the leather water skin in her hand and then tried to see behind the dark tint of her goggles. A voice from around the region of his waist spoke. "She's harmless, this one. She…arpmh." D clenched his left hand into a fist and silenced the voice. It was not suppose to be vocal in the presence of strangers. Normally it was more cautious than this.

"He is right." She tilted her head. "Well, partially. If you truly wish to harm me, then I cannot promise I will not resist."

He glanced once again into the depths of her cloak looking for something to betray her words. She tossed the skin and he caught it in one swift movement. It contents sloshed and no strange scent rose from it. It truly was water.

His lips barely moved. "Thank you."

The strange woman pulled tight the cloak and retreated once more into the howling sandstorm. "It was nice to meet you…" the silky voice became distant "…again."

D's iris widened ever so slightly in surprise. It took quite a bit of control to keep every muscle in his legs to stay still and not follow her into the haze of hot wind and sand.

"Your father was rather fond of her for good reasons," the voice near his waist let slip out.


	2. Chapter 2: Recollection

"What do you mean?" asked D quietly. To encounter someone not a Noble and knowing his father was a rare occasion indeed.

"Oh, just an acquaintance of his, nothing more. The sandstorm has stopped, shall we move on?" The parasite on his hand changed the subject quickly. It was correct in its observation, however, for around them, the desert was quiet. The winds had ceased and the sand had settled.

D could find no footprints of the stranger, but that was to be expected because of the sandstorm. But not even a scent of the woman lingered in the area. The sun, overhead, was setting behind the dunes. She had been careful, this one, to know that the sandstorm would be her protection from discovery.

He remained frozen on the spot, shuffling through the collection of his long memory, trying to recollect anyone or anything that seemed familiar about her. His past was full of many encounters with the opposite sex. Not all had been human or vampires. Some had been the same as he, dhampir. The rest were the children of genetic mutation and creation by vampire hand. Was she one of those? Or dhampir? If she were, he should have smelt and sensed the half of her that knew the call for blood. She had not seemed drawn to him in the same senseless enamored way that captured most females attention.

A low, amused chuckle rose from the parasite. "Oh, this is most entertaining. I have not seen you this troubled since the last encounter with the vampire and human lovers."

D clenched his left fist. "Perhaps leaving you in the desert to become 'a piece of beef jerky' is not such a bad idea."

"Rmmph…ar..omphursaand," was the reply. D opened his hand. "Oh come now, I am much to useful to you."

"Then remind me. Or momentarily forgetting may not be pleasant for you." D's voice was cold, void of any sympathy for the strange appendage.

"How far back do you remember, D?" The Hand's tone sounded odd. Sympathy? D had never heard that tone before from the nuisance.

"Everything."

"Remember the chain of parties your father threw in honor of your coming of manhood?"

"Yes."

Then it hit him. The veiled girl at the series of grand balls that had been held at the Vampire King's castle? Vivid images of the past welled up inside of him. It was ever so long time ago…

_It was his sixteenth year of life, if a life is what it could be called. The Vampire King was in his prime of life in this mortal world, and the tampering of human lives and the world's nature had long been begun. The castle was alive with laughter and simple talk. The elaborate hall was bedecked with crimson silk draperies and gold accents. His mother and father were mingling with the other Nobles nearby, leaving him surrounded by a flock of young beauties, both human and vampire. Whether his father really desired for him to flirt and become enamored with them or not, he did not know, nor care. His brothers would have chosen several of them for intimate company, but he was not the same as they. _

_It was required custom for him to dance at least once with every unmarried woman in the crowd. It was a long night because of that fact alone. Lady after lady allowed themselves to be encircled by his arms and twirled about. None of their faces interested him, however, not even the one face that eluded physical criticism because of her complicated veil. _

She had seemed taller then, for he than had not finished his growth spurt. Vaguely, he remembered the enthralling aura of sunshine and aroma of forest she had carried with her, but it had not entranced him long. He would have thought her human if she had not danced with as much or more grace than the Noble women. And now, as he remembered more and more of this mysterious figure, the more puzzled he became.

After dancing, he recalled the Vampire King approaching and bowing to this veiled woman and thanking her for dancing with his son, as was custom of the father to say to the last dancing partner of his son.

_"My son is cruel not to show you more interest." The King had apologized. _

"_Not even a veil entices him. I am truly impressed." She had replied._ The same bell voice!

He had been watching his father's face for a look of disappointment. It was expressionless.

"_Then he is ready for the world?" asked the King._

And the rest, he could not remember. For he had cared little of his father's balls and guests and the meaningless role they had in his life then. After seeing the expressionless face of his father, even the most faint of interest in the ball had been lost.

The other Nobles had played a very important part in his life later in life, a tragic role to be true. For it was by his hand that many of them died. Eventually, even the Vampire King would be made to deal with again. But that was perhaps at the end of his long road.

But this woman…what was she to the Vampire King that he held her opinion of value?

D finally spoke. "What was she to the _him_?"

"A friend, nothing less, nothing more," answered the Hand.

D doubted that very much. He spoke no more and started to search the area that he had heard the scrapping sound come from. He found only more stone. No doors, no sliding boulders. He placed his left hand upon the ground.

"Oh no. I'm not eating sand. Besides, she just wants to be left alone, that one," called out the muffled voice of the Hand.

"Most do," whispered D.

At that comment, the Hand burst out laughing. "This individual is not game. Nor does she think of you game. Not human, not vampire, not even a mixture of both. What runs through her veins, I do not know. But she is not ours to hunt."

While the hand spoke, D had slowly reached for the hilt of his sword. He drew it out seconds before a voice behind him sounded.

"You are correct. She is ours."


	3. Chapter 3: The Dunetop Meeting

Atop a dune behind D was a small band of men, all armed with various sorts of guns and sabers. All of them were in black desert garb, their arms and legs bound with strips of cloth to keep the sand out, half their faces covered with scarves.

"You shall not interfere with our business, stranger," the tallest among them voiced.

"And what business may that be?" asked D. His sword lowered, his poise calm.

"Lord Valshress of the city yonder has long wanted rid of this desert pest. Many a child has gone missing in centuries past. Their families left grief-stricken and confused. No Noble has ever been successful in having sway over us for generations beyond memory, and we choose to keep it that way. Now that the Lord's own grandchild has gone missing, who but this Desert Lady could be the culprit?"

D had always heard the stories of the small city of Eldrith, the city called Hope. Many federal dispatches from the City had been sent in the past to study the mysteries of this backwater place. The history for certain was an interesting one. Every Noble that had ever tried to place a foothold in this land had been unsuccessful. The reasons why were still unknown. The rumors are that there is a guardian protecting the boundaries of this land that is greater than even the strongest of the nobles; others said that the forgotten secrets, the lost wards against Nobles are still remembered here. This would mean that their genetics are original, unpolluted and untouched by the Nobles, if this is true. D had been here before, however, and the only thing that seemed warded against vampire kind in the city was the church, which is even older than the city, and left in ruins. But the "Desert Lady" had never been a problem before. He had always assumed that she, now no longer a rumor, was a renegade mutant that the Nobles had left years before from the struggles with the humans, and he had never had to deal with her. It seems that he now knew what sort of things that would pertain to his next assignment as a bounty hunter.

"Desert Lady…" D murmured.

The leader rose pointed his gun at D. "We do not know why you are here, stranger. You could be in league with the witch or you could be competition. Either which, you are unwelcome."

Well, D was certainly use to that. He did not have time for this. The Lord Valshress who the human had spoken of was long expecting him. "Your Lord has called for the best of hunters. I am here to answer his call. It would perhaps make him unhappy for you to waste his time by fighting me." D sheathed his sword and turned his back on the humans, certain that they would not make trouble after that comment. He could hear some of them gritting their teeth in displeasure.

"You have a point, stranger. 'Til later, hunter." With those words, they silently made their way toward the shelter amidst the stones that D had left vacant. "Now, for that witch…"

"This is not the first time this has happened in our city, dhampir. The only difference between then and now is that we are skeptical of the stories that we use to believe in." Lord Valshress was pacing the floor of his hall, the polished wood showing the wear marks of many a restless predecessor before him.

"What stories," asked D, his face barely audible above the crackling of the fire in the great hearth in front of the human.

"Even when I was young, my mother once told me the stories of about a desert guardian, a sacred protector of the city. I believed in them then, for I watched the coming and going of at least one Noble and a couple of beasts made by Noble disappear. They would come into our land, making slaves, causing loved ones to die, but…but then they would disappear. No one had hired a hunter. I checked the records. I questioned those who remembered more clearly those occurrences. They did not have the time to hire a hunter before the problem was already solved. But by whom? Or by what?" Valshress paused in pacing, his grey eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Always, not long after the trouble would stop, a child would disappear. Boy or girl, it made no difference. And each time from a different family. No other pattern than it being after the trouble and that it would be a child."

"And you connect this with the woman in the desert?" D remained still, never taking comfort in the Lord's offer of a seat by the fire.

"Who else could it be? If it were monsters that needed food or blood, they would come back to feed. But this…this only happens after an attack with only one child to be taken." He placed a hand over his eyes. "In the past we ignored this. Now that it is my own grand child…" He coughed and looked the dhampir in the eyes, well, what he could make out of eyes from deep in the shadows of the man's hat. "I know it is selfish for us to take interest in this only now. But if not now, then when? Please, hunter, bring back my child and put an end to this."

"This will not be easy. The child may already be dead," whispered D.

"Then I want the one responsible dead!" spat Valshress.

D watched the moment of anger pass on the human's face and then spoke. "Understood. But five million dalas is not enough."

"Then how is fourteen million? I am sure some of the villagers can add to that as well. After you bring me the head of the one responsible, be it the witch or nay, will you get your pay. There are others hired as well, ones who are more familiar with this land. You best be on your way, dun peal."

With that dismissal, D turned and left the mansion.

As he crossed the first few sand dunes outside the city gates, he came across the band of humans once again. Except that this time, their courageous countenance now gone and replaced with the symptoms of fear, shivering and shaking, eyes downcast. Their leader was not among them.

The Hand whispered from near his waist. "Well, she can at least take care of human threats."

A man raised his eyes to meet D's face and found a moment's loss in its beauty. "She is impossible to win against, hunter. You should save yourself the trouble and find another assignment. With that warning, they moved on into the city, spirits broken, and D turned to watch them. No wounds, but certainly beaten in spirit at the least, if spirit was the lesser valued.

As D turned his automation back toward the vast desert expanse, a silent figure stood still in his path. D was only slightly taken aback by this quiet approach. It was the "Desert Lady." But she was not alone. In her arms she carried a limp figure that was surely twice her size, but she carried the burden with ease. It was the tall leader of the human band. D could see even in this dark night that the man's chest was rising and falling, his breath steady and calm.

"He is alive." It was all that D could manage with the different questions that were raised in his mind at her appearance.

This time she did not wear the dark goggles. Her eyes glimmered with unnatural silver as they assessed him. "So, you were another hunter for hire, after all." She laid the man on the sand at the feet of D's mount. "No, for I value you life. Short lives are more valuable than mine, or even yours. Don't you agree?"

D remained silent for a moment, then asked, "Then, I do wonder if you are the one I am to hunt?"

The sad smile that spread on her face beneath her scarf made it wrinkle more. "Am I?" She turned and looked at him from the corner of her eye. "And what do you want to know, dhampir?"

"Only to know if you do indeed have the child."

"I do." Her voice was as calm as his.

This did not surprise D, not a bit. "Return the child and their will be no trouble."

She looked up at the moon hanging in the dark sky, like the cradle it was referred to in songs long lost. "Will there really be no trouble if I do so?"

"I can assure you that that the humans will not harm you." What inspired him to offer this woman his protection, he did not know. She somehow did not seem deserving any violence, especially since she had not killed the humans that had hunted her.

"That is not the trouble I was referring to." She faced him. "These children are most important to this world's future, and are safest in my keeping."

"I cannot allow you to keep the child. The grandfather is worried."

"I am afraid that I cannot rest his worries. Humans do not trust what they do not understand, especially when they are in the later half of their lives." Her eyes found his own beneath the long brim of his hat. "Tell me, son of the Vampire King, where does your duty and honor lay?"

D's head jerked up. "You know…"

A laugh like that of a sweet bell tone parted her lips. "You do not remember me as well as I do you…but that is not important here. What is important, however, is that you do not interfere."

"With what?" D was indeed becoming slightly irritated with this woman not being more frank with him.

"These children are the survivors of genetics left untouched by the Nobles. It is they who will lead the resistance against the power that the Nobles have over them. They are able to remember what is made to be forgotten." She turned her back to him. "You know what this means. They cannot learn what is to be remembered by those who do not hold that knowledge nor can retain it."

"But to take a child from a loving parent? I do not know if I can agree with your justification of your actions." D got off his mount and took a step closer to her.

She took a step back. "Normally these parents were children I had raised myself. They understood the reasons why I would take their own children from them. Be the children become priests, hunters, or else, they would become some form of resistance. But to allow a family together who know the vampires' weakness? It would surely bring too much unwanted attention, and seen as a threat. These children must be made to disperse and not stay in one city."

"She's right, D," murmured the Hand. "The Nobles have their connections, even to this city. After all, these people have to trade their goods with someone outside."

"I know this," D replied.

"Then would not you let this mission go?" asked the woman hopefully. "I do so not like bloodshed, and I doubt I could bring myself to destroy you."

"Give the child back or seek the approval of the grandfather for what you wish to do."

She looked down at the sand, sadness embedded deep in her eyes. "I tried. He does not believe, and I cannot take him to my abode unless he wishes never return to the world above." She crossed her arms. "I am afraid that even if he did agree to stay, he would try to leave, and I would be forced to take action against that and bind him against his will."

She truly was not an evil being; now he could see this. "Then we must find a solution that will be agreeable to both sides."

"No! This is not possible. The child must have no ties to his family or this city, for the sake of those in the city. His mother died because of her lingering tie to the city." She looked up at him. "But I promise this, the child will love and have family if he so wishes. If that is not enough for the grandfather, than perhaps he is being too selfish."

"Or perhaps you have forgotten also that short lives also need some selfishness to survive?" D's reply left her quiet for some time.

"I have never had a short life. We share that much, Hunter D. But I have promised to protect these children in all ways possible, leaving no opening of weakness for vampires to exploit." She took several steps back, drawing her cloak tighter about herself.

He drew his sword in one quick moment, the tip of its long blade mere finger's span from her throat. "Then I no choice."

"Duty over heart, Dracula? Is that what your father wanted of you?"

D's sword tip lowered a bit in surprise at the use of his name. "I never knew what he wanted of me except for success in his _experiments_."

In his moment of surprise, she vanished. There was no flash of light or puff of smoke. Just a quick night breeze and she was gone.

"Maybe now you see why your father liked her?" The Hand snickered.


	4. Chapter 4: Underneath

She had eluded him again. It was as if she had become the wind and disappeared upon unseen wings that were quicker than even a dhampir's eyes. Truly, her origins were a mystery.

"I admire her loyalty, but I cannot allow her to keep the child." D's voice broke the calm of the night. It was odd for him to speak aloud to himself, but for some odd reason he felt like he needed the reassurance that he was correct.

"You know, she has a good point. She said she had tried to speak with the grandfather. But just as expected, the minute she mentioned vampire weakness to him, the genetic tampering kicked in and he sooner forgot that part of the conversation, no doubt. You know well what has been done to the humans." The Hand was not in favor of D's decision.

"Silence." D clenched his fist. He knew. This assignment was not as easy as some of his previous ones.

Deep underneath miles of soil and hot sand, in a single chamber among many that branched off the center dome, she sat with the small child in her arms. Mirrors and magic above bent and manipulated sunlight taken from the surface, filling the chamber with light that would fade with the day. The little boy was only a little over a year old, the memory of his grandfather barely imprinted to his memory. He lay curled up sleeping against her warm bosom, a small fist clutching tight the front of her flowing gossamer white gown.

Her beautiful floor-long curtain of silver hair blanketed around the both of them, the tips of it floating in the small pond they sat next to. The trees nearby swayed in the unnatural breeze that she brought with her, their gold leaves quivering. All the chambers in her sanctuary simulated what were the seeds of what she had brought with her from her own world.

Her own world. It seemed to have been a dream…a place that she may never have been to. If it not for her difference from everything in this world, she could have fooled herself into believing her blood the same as others.' Long ago, when the Vampire King's people and he were deeply involved with the technology that tweaked with nature, they had found a gateway. The gateway opened to a combination of worlds…and that is where he gained much of his power. He took from the worlds not only knew knowledge to apply to his own kingdom, but he had also taken living things. One of those things being her. He had spirited her away. Or that had been the second time she had came to this world. She had helped him open those gates, naively thinking he was helping her return. She had been a beautiful curiosity unto him. He had done his best to woo and please her, creating this new home that she lived in now. Her understanding and manipulation of nature amazed him. It was her power that he wanted. She did not agree with him in using power as something to weld over others. Nature and she were under contract. It was her blood right, her heritage. No matter the world, its life answered to her call.

The child in her arms woke, wide eyed. He did not cry out, however. She winced as he reached up and tugged on one of her long ears, liking the silver bell earring on the tip, and petting it like an animal's ear. "Play now, while times are more quiet."

But above, it was not as quiet. Through the earth beneath her she could feel the faint vibrations of a horse's hooves upon the sandy surface above. The son of Dracula was not going to let the bounty go free.

She flicked a finger and summoned forth an air elemental. Gently, she handed over the little boy into the Elemental's safe-keeping. "Take him to the library Keep and cater to his needs, regardless if I return or not. If I do not return, you know how he must be instructed and raised." She raised her eyes to the ceiling above. "Have Tera bring me my garb."


	5. Chapter 5: Supernatural?

Above, D continued in his task of trying to move stone from the place he thought to be the entrance to her lair. It was here the surface showed the scrape marks of stone that had moved upon sand.

Normally, such a task deemed monstrously impossible for even the strongest of human men should have been a simple task for him. But in the heat of day, he was not at the peak of his prowess, no matter how odd that prowess was even among dhampirs. Sweat dripped down the length of his brow in the hot sun.

"You know," mumbled the hand parasite as D paused to examine his work, "we could knock."

D remained silent and set back to examining the stone. He was certain he was above the entrance, for the rock had not rung solid.

"Then again, you're right. We could have to wait forever for her to come out." The Hand let out a sigh.

"No, I say knocking would be the better choice." A soft voice replied from behind.

D whirled around to meet the owner of the voice, his hand ready at the hilt of his weapon. Sneaking up on him was no small feat. "You have come."

"Your stead makes quite a ruckus that is felt even through sand." The mysterious woman sat leisurely on a smaller boulder behind them, her form completely engulfed in long white robes that floated in the occasional breeze, and her face was hidden. "I assume you choose not to give up your bounty?"

"Hear that D? _You _were loud." The Hand chuckled.

D clenched his fist and gave her a quiet, calm look. Then he shook his head.

She sighed. "I see. Then what other options have we?" She slid almost soundless from her perch to stand upon the warm sand. "Any treaty with the grandfather would soon be forgotten by him, for his reasons to make that treaty he will sooner forget. All he will ever know is that is grandchild was taken by something or someone he will never understand, and for reasons he cannot remember for understanding."

"Give him another reason then. As long as he accepts it and I am paid for what work I have done, then there will be no trouble." He answered from underneath the dark brim of his hat.

"The grandfather wishes to rear the child, which I understand. But word of the child mysteriously surviving has already reached a few vampires lords' ears, I am afraid." She raised her head, the layered hood still low over her face. "The boy's mother protected him with wards, and almost survived herself." She turned her face into a light breeze that was passing through. She became quiet, as if searching for a scent carried on the wind. "I would be more concerned about protecting the man who hired you right now. Foul things shall be afoot soon."

D also turned his head in the same direction, but kept her in the corner of his vision, lest she vanish again. "Even if you speak truth, the child still needs to be returned. Protection of the child should not be your responsibility alone."

She smiled beneath her hood. "It is nice to hear that. But you know as well as I what it is like to bear responsibilities on one's own, especially when the other choice is a betrayal of our promises." Her fingers emerged from beneath billowing sleeves and smoothed over the light silver embroidery on the hem. "Can you not be persuaded to let this matter go …with…money perhaps?"

"Harmph tharth, D? She saith mani," the Hand's muffled voice piped in.

"I do not sell my sword to anyone that may be in league with the Nobles or anything supernatural made by them."

A most astonishing sound erupted from her. She laughed. It was like the rise and denouement of the tone of a bell. "That is a most interesting thing for a dhampir and a son of the Vampire King to say." Her hand rose to the trim of her hood and pulled it back, revealing a white lovely face. Her hair was nearly as white as her face, but had a shine like pearl to it. It was wrapped neatly in many braids wound and woven around her head like a crown, leaving her long ears with the slightly fuzzy tips exposed. She had the same unworldly pull in her countenance as he, but hers rich in mystery of life and light. "Supernatural? Supernatural in comparison to what? The same for you, dhampir. If human is normal, natural as you say." She gestured toward the city outskirts, where a few farms lay. "Maybe to cattle, the humans are supernatural. Perhaps? But you haven't struck conversation with them lately. What a pity."

D looked straight at her in surprise. He had never really thought of such a thing in that light before. Surely humans were not supernatural to something such as a beast of burden? Humans cared and feed those animals. But again, vampires could say the same for humans. However, humans had expression and soul.

She laughed again. "You can understand speech and feeling of things that share language and thoughts with you. But what if I were to tell that there are those who can understand bird and beast in a way that you cannot? I am sure you have heard those claims before." She shook her head. "So focused upon your hunt, your past, and the path ahead of you. There were older things there before your path was made."

D did not know how to reply.

With one fluid motion she withdrew a long gleaming sword from a scabbard strapped to her belt beneath the robes.

D withdrew his in response. For some odd reason, it only brought more laughter from the woman.

"I do not intend to harm you with this, dhampir." Instead of bringing it forth in a warrior's stance, she undid the crown of her braid with one hand and cut the braid with the sword, leaving her with only half the hair she had. "Take this to the grandfather. It is my promise that the child will see him again. Once every year at the high noon on the summer solstice. This is so only if he has this woven with the threads of a cloak that he should wear when he enters the desert." She tossed him the long rope of silk white hair. "This is his last opportunity to accept those terms with my protection."

"You protection?" asked D as catching the rope of hair.

She gave him a grave stare. "The grandfather is not an innocent. The daughter that had returned to him after twenty years under my hand was still an outcast within her own home. He thought her to be under the sway of something evil and did nothing to protect her from the Noble's creatures that came for her after hearing of her skill in protecting and leading caravans into the city. How could he protect something polluted? That is his way of thinking. I loved her very much, and I will not forgive him. I protect this city. But I can make an exception for him."

D nodded. "I understand." He turned away and left her standing behind underneath the vast starry night sky watching him ride away.


	6. Chapter 6: Fire and Blood

As D became a dark dot on the horizon, Moide, for that was her name, whispered a strange word into the wind and a small flame leapt from the earth beneath her feat, followed by a brisk breeze. "If the grandfather does not agree to these terms, he is not to survive. Do I make myself clear?"

"_Yessssss_," the reply was a hiss.

The flame and wind disappeared, leaving her with mixed feelings.

"You are supposed to have brought me the witch's head and my grandchild!" Lord Valshress roared furiously. "Not some spell from which more trouble could spring from!" He glared at the long white braid that had been thrown on the floor before him. "So, dhampir, do you now work for the Witch?"

D's face was expressionless. "I do not work for her. She should have delivered this message in person, but I cannot allow her to reach you ahead of me."

The human's bushy white brows came together to form a quizzical expression. "So you're my bodyguard now, dhampir? I do not remember those being our terms." He crossed his sinewy arms. "And when did your kind start caring what happens to us?"

"You should accept her terms. It will make things much easier." D had his head tilted, listening to something outside of the room.

"It would, wouldn't it…?" Before the human could finish the rest of his statement, a large pale furry blur made an entrance through one of the stained glass windows above the long table.

D had long since placed himself between the threat and the human, his sword drawn and ready. The _blur _was a rather large creature, twice the size of an average man, and had the mixed appearance of large feline and canine. But it wasn't all fur that covered the animal, some patches were feathers. It was undoubtedly spawn created by Nobles, a Were of some sort.

Saliva dripped from greenish colored fangs. A barely audible voice rasped from its throat. "We do not have business with you, dhampir."

Valshress was on the other side of the fireplace on his knees, trying to be as small of a target as possible. He was trembling, and he raised his head to call out for his men. The call was caught in his throat, for a long grayish, twisted hand had appeared through the wall behind him, cupping his soft neck flesh in long black claws.

D had sensed the new presence appearing and leaped to the help the human. But the Were made his move, costing D to change the course of his blade and cleave the creature in two. In the fraction of a second it had cost him to change the blade's course, one of the long claws cut through the human's soft flesh while the blade came down to sever it. An ugly screech erupted from somewhere above him his sword cut through, but the scent of a different type of wood burning besides the logs in the fireplace alerted him. A fire had been started downstairs.

D saw that the human was still alive, but his main artery had been cut. D tore the human's blouse and quickly bound the neck as tightly as possible. He then slung the man over his shoulder.

From outside, D could hear the cries of scared people and the call-to-arms calls of the men. He leaped through the shattered window and landed below on some large storage crates with his sword raised.

The small club of an angered human was severed as it met sharp metal. He gracefully leapt backward, careful of his burden, beyond the reach of the humans. More Were animals appeared behind the city dwellers, poised and ready to feed. D had to find somewhere safe to deposit his burden and dispose of the creatures.

The fire next to them raged hotly, causing the humans to retreat to other side of the street. As D placed Valshress on the rooftop of the nearest building, he could hear painful howls come from inhuman throats. Someone was succeeding in fending off the Nobles' spawn. He caught a familiar scent on the wind.

_She _was below, a slender silver sword in each hand, and her face covered in white silk scarves now splattered with purple ichors. All the creatures lay in dark pools of their own blood around her, and many of the humans were froze in confusion and terror of their savior.

"Put out the fire!" Someone called from a window at the end of the street.

"No. Let be. It will not spread. I promise." The Desert Lady said.

D picked the human back up and jumped back down into the street. Many of the humans shuffled away from him as he came nearer. "Take him. He needs your help."

A large man dressed in tattered brown trousers and vest came forward reluctantly and took the city Lord in his arms. A woman with scarlet hair and dressed in a green skirt rushed forward to help, and the both of city dwellers retreated in the nearest building.

"He refused, didn't he?" She had sheathed her swords, long violet blood stains showing on her garments where she had wiped them clean. A marble white hand peeked out beneath her sleeve and two fingers gestured ever so slightly in the burning house's direction. A strong wind tore through the wide street, causing some of the flames to leap and spark down upon her. The creatures' corpses caught fire and began to burn into cinders. She remained untouched, however.

"Witch!" called out some of city dwellers in response as they stood and watched the scene.

"Witch, Desert Lady, Phantom, Sand Ghost. It makes no difference. You have my protection." A beautiful silver eye winked at D. "And maybe someone else's protection."

Both D and the Desert Lady looked up at the roof of the building on her left simultaneously, weapons ready. She began to dash about madly as small supply barrels from on the roof were tossed down into the street with incredible speed. D silently and quickly appeared on that roof to stop the trouble. The humans below screamed and fled the scene where more trouble was beginning.

The stench of Undead Hands hung upon the air. And as D cleaved away at the undead servants on the roof, he could hear and see the Desert lady struggle from the corner of his eye. She was truly a skilled swordswoman, leaping and seemingly floating from place to place to dispatch the Hands.

An even fouler stench had begun to rise though, a stench of something long buried over thousands of years and now unearthed. But it was rising off her skin and clothing. Something in the barrels had splashed upon her when they broke, and she was doing her best to make it burn away with her clothing as she bounded about like a dot of flame against the night sky. But the fumes were strong and make even D feel slightly ill. But for her, they seemed devastating, for she was faltering.

The undead that came near her also caught flame and began to cinder away, their inhuman screams echoing though the empty streets. But her flame was diminishing. She cried out in rage and the flame she produced roared into a pillar as a wind came and whirlwind around her. All the undead became piles ash on the earth, and the fumes disappeared.

D raised an arm to protect his eyes and face from the bright flames and sparks that raged around her and waited for it to fade away.

"You know," said a voice from the raised hand, "You can enter those flames and calm her if you want."

"What?"

"Would I tell you to something that turns us both into barbacue?"

D sheathed his sword and slowly took steps toward the column of fire, his arm still raised, testing the sparks. They faded and cooled on the black material of his suit, not even leaving a scorch mark to his surprise. The oxygen in the air around him was being sucked into the tornado of fire, feeding it. He had to move quicker.

He zipped forward with inhuman speed toward the center of the pillar of fire and snatched the figure in the middle from its depths. The flame ceased the moment his hands met her flesh. Most of her clothing had burned away, leaving white skin that was strangely splotched green in different places. She was unconscious and obviously ill, for she was sweating and jerking feverishly in his arms.

D knew that she was cause of the fire that had destroyed the mansion, perhaps with the intention of killing the human, but he couldn't leave her to the mercy of the humans. They would sooner destroy something they misunderstood. He didn't think she was so deserving of death just yet.

His dhampir ears made out the soft crunch of a foot upon dry earth and the steady beat of a human heart behind him. "What do you want?"

It was the tall leader of the bounty hunting band. His head was bandaged, tufts of dark hair sticking out at odd angles. He approached the dhampir. "I want the witch." The man's hand moved to pull something from inside his outer vest.

D had his sword drawn in a flash, the tip a breath's span from the tip of the man's nose.

"You wouldn't deny a man a cigarette, would you, dhampir?" The man smiled and slowly withdrew a long white cigar and a lighter from an inside pocket.

The man's grin only grew wider as he placed the cigarette in the corner of his mouth and lit it. D's nose twitched. Something wasn't right. His stomach lurched and the nerves of his body felt like liquid fire, and the night became bright as day. Time-Bewitching Incense. The man had it rolled in with the tobacco of his cigar.

D's sword faltered, but caught the man in the shoulder. The man yelled out, exhaling more incense, and backed off the tip of the blade. "Ack!"

Breathing became harder for D, and he collapsed to his knees in front of the bleeding human, his arms limp with the Desert Lady on the ground in front of him. Blood. The smell of it was awakening something primal inside of him. Sweat poured from him as the world continued to become an unbearable day and spin around him. Time-Bewitching Incense was incredibly hard to come by. What was a human doing with it?

"Life's unfair, isn't it, dhampir?" He wafted more incense in D's face. The man laughed while clutching his wound. He picked up D's sword in one hand and raised it in an arch over D. "Ironic too."

"Nooo!" The Desert Lady's call was simultaneous with a powerful wind that knocked the man off his feet and the sword from his hand. He landed with a hard thud into the brick of a building and was silent. The incense was extinguished.

She rolled over once and crawled her way over to the dhampir. He was still breathing heavy, but the sweating had stopped. Weakly, she laid an arm over his chest as an offering. "Drink quickly, _he _comes."

D glanced down at the lovely white arm resting on his chest. When weakened to his primal state, such an offer was tempting of course. D clenched his teeth and closed his eyes. He could resist. This was nothing new to him. His body still throbbed in pain.

"I am not human, taking my blood will not kill me nor make you a monster. Now, quickly, drink." She whispered from his side, her breath also becoming heavy.

A deep but musical laugh sounded from the other side of street, making her gasp. She raised her hand and one of her swords came to her call. She rose, her legs unsteady, but her sword held in a perfect stance. "I do not know how you came to have the Waste. You have crossed boundaries made by your Sacred Ancestor. You will not have what desire."

The shadows of a nearby alley parted and revealed a tall cloaked figure with long dark hair pulled away from his peerlessly beautiful face. "Can't blame me for at least trying, my lady. Can you?" It was a Noble.

Flames danced in small circles around her bare feet once more, and her eyes narrowed. She was quick, faster than his eye could follow, but he anticipated where she would strike and was dealt a blow from another angle, not deep, however.

She was still wasn't completely recovered and she slightly lost her balance as she came around for another attack. He struck out when she was near. She yelled out as the tip of one of his fingernails nicked her arm.

"I always come prepared, my lady."

Crimson blood trickled down her arm, mixed with a yellowish fluid. Her body began to tremble violently and her sword clattered to the ground as she fell forward. A long blue-sleeved arm caught her and she felt something cold and wet on her arm as her eyes closed and darkness claimed her.

D sat up to the clang of her sword hitting the ground. He was beginning to feel slightly better. His sword was far from him though to make any offensive moves against the Noble. All he could do for the moment was watch.

The vampire lord was licking the Desert Lady's wound. He turned to face D and spat the blood and yellow fluid on the ground, a grin on his face. "She offered you something very precious, dhampir." He laughed and enveloped her within the voluminous folds of his ebon cloak. "You foolishly refused. You're foolishness shames the Noble blood you carry in your veins."

A long fingered gloved hand flickered from underneath the cloak. A small silver dagger flew toward D, forcing him to dodge. D rolled into the direction of his sword.

The vampire lord disappeared in billow of fog, leaving a dark laugh and a disturbing comment behind. "Now you can bring the mortal his grandchild and collect your money, _Hunter_."


	7. Chapter 7: Bondage

A painful prickling feeling along the length of her back awoke Moide from her deep slumber. She cried out, her voice ringing like a small bell in an empty stone chamber. Her eyes came to focus, and she found out that indeed it was a stone chamber that she was in. She tried to move her hands and sit up, but found her limbs sluggish and unwilling to comply.

"Don't move too much, Strangling," growled a voice from above her. A dark face with glowing red eyes came into view above her. "The skin is still scabbing."

She remembered the blotches of toxic poison that had splashed upon her skin and look down at her arms. The residue was gone and not a green stain was left to seep defilement into her blood stream. A tear rolled down her cheek as she beheld what replaced the stains. Down the length of ivory white arms where the black and royal blue ink stains of recently made tattoos. They curved and dotted upon her white canvas, whispering to her of the mysterious race that had lived below her people.

The tattoos meant only one thing-the Saelei, those who could not survive sunlight and lived inside the refuge of mountains where they were closer to the heart of the earth, the source of their power. Their skin was dark as night and their eyes as purple as the amethysts that were found in the mines. Every so many thousand of years, women in her village had disappeared, only to be seen several thousands years later at night, playing under the moonlit sky. The absence of sunlight and the presence of strong earth magic had turned their skin a dusky gray that eventually became black as obsidian. The only features that remained the same were their white locks of hair and their green or gray eyes. The lords of Saelei had bound them into service with bonds of a mysterious magic. No one knew exactly what the lords wanted from the captives. Some had said that they craved to live under the sun and that the captives were experiments. Others said that it was because the Saelei lacked women.

A long bare dark arm gently pulled her upright. Somewhere near her, a bell tinkled. A scream of pain escaped her throat as a hot steaming towel was thrown upon her bare back. She tried to move her head to get a better view of the stranger that was treating her, but her head throbbed with overwhelming pain that almost threw her back into a state of unconsciousness.

"The Lord wants you well enough to stand as soon as possible. You must stay conscious or he will not be pleased with me." The stranger wrapped his arms around her and lifted her off the stone platform. Again, the tinkling of a bell. He must be wearing jewelry of some sort, she thought.

She could finally peer into the face of the servant of her captor. What she saw made her gasp. A Saelei? No, his eyes were the color of blood and his face was slightly broader and less refined. She felt small in his arms, and most Saelei were shorter than even her. "Who…"

She saw a muscle twitch under one of his eyes. "There were many Nobles who served under the King, and several that oversaw the expeditions to your world. The earth dwellers came to mutual terms with the Nobles when they discovered one another. My mother was their guide." His words had an accent to them that was more familiar to Nobles of the ancient Caucus area of this world.

Her ears made out the sweet bubbling noise of the stream before she felt it. An aqueduct must bring mountain water to the castle, she thought. As he eased her into the water, she let her mind wander and her blood cool. Thoughts of water filled her.

"You cannot escape that way. Don't try, for you'll only become weaker. You are partially bound to the Lord now. And only when he desires it can you tap into your powers." He picked her up out of the cool underground stream and laid her back upon the platform.

More tears streamed down her face. "I have never been so defiled before." He eyes became even sadder when she noticed the array of ribbons tied around the bell he carried on a bracelet.

He growled. "My magic is not impure, Strangling."

"Keep your temper, Mattais." A deep voice came from the top of the long flight of stairs behind them.

"Yes, father."

Moide felt energy pour back into her as the tall figure came, gliding down the stairs. She recognized the dark hair that fluttered behind him. Her tears stopped. It was the Noble. "Your father?"

Mattias stood before her dressed in the simple leather trousers of a stable servant, his eyes gleaming like rubies. "While you may have never allowed yourself to love the Vampire King, it does not mean all the people from your world share the same feeling."

The Noble placed a hand upon his son's shoulder. "You have other things to attend to as well."

Mattias nodded and quietly left the room, leaving her trembling in the presence of her new master.

Several human women came out from behind him, their arms full of dark bundles of clothes, accessories, and brushes. They wore the billowing white dresses that had been favored by the women in human history of long past, when they were to sit in cold stone halls and embroider and wait for the return of their husbands from wars in far off lands.

One came forward and excused herself. They began to dress her in many folds and layers of gossamer ebon and blue garments. She remained still as they did so, and observed the Noble more closely.

He was lovelier than any human, as most Nobles almost always were. His face was like that from a painting of fine youth from one of Italian painter she had met many years ago, before the cataclysm. His hair was like a fine blanket of dark silk nearly as long as her knee-length hair. As for his height, it was imposing. She barely reached the middle of his chest. His sky blue eyes twinkled with amusement as she frowned at him.

She grimaced as one of the ladies accidentally brushed the end of a tattoo at the base of her neck while combing her mass of hair. They started braiding and looping, twining small bells on rings into the loops. She remembered their weight all too well.

"If you would allow me but a drop of your blood of your own free will, my lady, those tattoos could be made to fade away," whispered the Noble.

"Never will you be as the Vampire King was." She felt an uncomfortable tremor go down her spine as he cupped her face in his large white hand.

"I spent many, many years looking for you and keeping track what little evidence you left behind of your activities. He protected you very well. " He took her small hand in his and bowed over it. "I am Count Rensilas, once a nobleman of the Hungarian Empire that existed long ago."

"Titles do not impress me, vampire." The women finished with a veil and a circlet of bells over it around her brow.

He smiled. "Coming from someone even older than me, I do not find that surprising." He reached into the pockets of his robes and withdrew nine white gold bracelets. Each one had a different number of bells on them, similar to the ones in her hair on and on her circlet. All the bells had a different symbol etched on them and a different array of colored ribbons tied to them. For each bell he added, he also added a powerful servant under her command, and once the bells were upon her, she was to endue an elemental power to them, and ultimately to the Count.

He clipped five bracelets upon one her left arm and four around her left ankle. "You are never to leave the castle without me. You are never to converse with anyone other than those who dwell in this castle, unless I allow you otherwise. You are to defend my life as your own, and to never take your own life without my permission. And only I can remove the bells." She blushed at a resurfacing memory.

The tattoos on her arms and back burned when he placed an arm around her to pull her close, making her dizzy with pain.

"The city that you were protecting now has my protection as well. I will not harm or feed from them. In this, I hope you serve me with the slightest of free will."

"What do you want from me? How do you know these things?" She raised the wrist heavy with bangles. "Those documents have been lost longer than you have been alive, vampire. HOW DO YOU KNOW THESE THINGS?" She wept and crumpled to the floor. "The Saelei woman is dead. This magic should not be in this world. This magic…" Her fingers burnt as she clawed at the circlet on her head.

He pulled her up and encircled her with his arms. "My kind is slowly being eradicated from this world. Many of the Nobles were born vampires. We have no choice but to feed. Just as humans feed on cattle and eat plants of the earth, we also need sustenance. It has been a struggle about defining prey and predator for many generations. With your power, some Nobles may be able to survive this age. All things have a right to exist. Don't you also believe that?"

She tried to push away from him. "I am not supposed to be here. The Vampire King knew that. What you say doesn't justify all of your actions. You should be surviving of your own power." The tattoos burned as she struggled.

"Then why did you help the Vampire King?" He whispered.

A muffled choke came from her, and she looked up at him. "You know Saelei ways of binding me, but you don't know how he obtained my favor?" She became still, lost in a recollection. "I knew him from when he was an angry young boy, when I was brought to this world by a stream of wild magic tapped into by the Saelei." She paused and glanced up at the stairway that Mattias had left from. "The town he was from had been ravaged by many diseases and plagues, some from foreigners passing through. Famines were frequent, but they knew when to prepare for such harsh seasons. It was also the custom of his people to consume the blood of people on their death bed, for they believed the blood carried the spirit and the spirit in turn relived inside of them. You can imagine what thousands of years of isolation can do to a people. Because of famines in the past, they became more dependant on animal blood from remaining animals as well. Their bite carried viruses and toxins. Their ability to live longer than most humans, that is where their mental powers come from, tapping into areas of the brain that cannot be learned in a short life."

The Noble took in a quick breath of air. "The thirst for blood…but what about the outside world?"

"When he met me, the cycle of famines ended and the land became rich for crops. This created outside interest in their valley. When outsiders finally brought war inside his valley, most of the village was destroyed. Few survivors moved into foreign cities, but were later killed. They had been accused of bringing plague and bad fortune, which is partially true." She placed a hand over an eye in shame. "The war that the outsiders brought drove him to drink more than just from animals or the dying…"

The vampire tightened his grip on her and picked her up, bringing her up to eye level with him. "Are you telling me you sided with him because of guilt?"

She avoided his eyes. "I shouldn't have helped them. I should have let things be."

"So now you help the humans." He set her down. "Will this cycle never end?"

"Don't you think I have asked that? That is between you and the humans. Synthetic blood, treaties and governments. It is your struggle. Once I undo what your people have done to the humans, I am free."

His dark, deep laugh echoed in the small chamber. "It seems to me you've never realized when you were free." He closed the gap between them in the blink of an eye. "The cycle would have eventually started without your interference."

The tattoos burned painfully as she leapt away from him. "Yes, but we will never know. Famine could have done them in. Then they never would have fed on the outside world." Her chest heaved with quick, heavy breaths.

"You cannot escape this." Rensilas lunged forward.

Even with the pain, she managed to elude his lunge. The moment was to be short lived. A cold sensation traveled down her spine where the tattoo ink was darkest and down a nerve in her leg. It went numb and she toppled over, entangled in her layers of robes and skirts.

The Noble pinned down her arms and raised her veil. "It begins thus." And he sank his fangs into the soft white flesh of her neck. As long as the tattoos remained, her blood would not kill him.

She gasped. "Transient guests…even me…"


	8. Chapter 8: Contract?

Several months was a long time for traces to go cold in. But then again, it wasn't physical evidence alone that always led D to where he needed to be. The bounty hunter back in Eldrith had had a source for the Time-Bewitching Incense that had indeed had been a vampire, or more like an temporary alliance with vampires. There seemed to be more than one Noble involved. This was an incredibly odd thing to find, and it was an opportunity D could not pass up.

He could not dwell on any guilt that might remain from the his last mission. Wherever the "Desert Lady" was, he knew that she could not be dead. The Noble taken her for a reason, and he wanted to know why. He had to patient, however. He was certain that they would soon be moving in upon some of the main human cities, even if only underground movements.

"You know," mumbled the Hand, "you may be too late to help that woman."

D reined his horse to a halt in front of stream and let it canter up to the water for a drink for cooling. "I know."

The Hand laughed. "This is really is rich! You think she has turned vampire?"

"He wanted her for more than that," whispered D. "But there is that possibility that cannot deny."

"Well," huffed the Hand, "maybe a possibility in your thoughts, but I just happen to know she can't become such a creature."

D went quiet for a few minutes. "I believe it is time for you to tell me everything you know. I tire of this."

"I would if I could." The Hand chuckled and started coughing and spitting as D clenched his left fist real tight, digging his fingernails into the skin. "All right! All right! But I mean it! I cannot tell you much. I'm under contract, you know."

D knew all to well. "Tell me what you can."

"Hrmmm. Well, I am sure you have fleeting memories of her being at your father's castle. She has quite the history with him." The Hand laughed again. "He tried, oh yes, he tried to turn her, especially after becoming enamored with her in his early years. But not only did she forbid it, it was impossible. Their relationship became nothing more than mutual, a sister protecting a little brother. All younger brothers grow up, however. And after becoming more than what he was, something she saw as terrifying, she had nothing more to do with him, except for the few occasions when you saw her at the castle."

"Few times?" D murmured.

"Of course you can't remember each time she came. They were rare. But when you were born, she had seemed rather pleased. I suppose she was happy that your father fell in love with your mother, and the fact that the woman was a human probably relieved her somewhat. She visited the castle more often after you were born just to watch over you and your mother. She was a quiet presence. You would no more remember her vividly in your childhood than you would the tall white curtains that hung in the castle." The Hand chuckled. "Isn't it sweet, D? You have an auntie."

D ignored the jest. "What is she?"

"She..hrmm..mmmph." The Hand was out of breath. "No…can…answer."

D was truly curious now. The Hand rarely shut up. In his long past, he had discovered that the parasite on his hand was forbidden and incapable of talking about anything that would reveal its true nature and origins. And D had a good idea of what sort of dealings it had had with his father. But…to find another living being who would also pertain to that contract and its origins… The lady had to of had either a role in the time of its creation or knew something about it. Either which, she was an invaluable source of information to uncovering the past and perhaps unraveling the future of vampires.

If she could not be turned, then she was truly an original living being, meaning that the vampires had no hand in her creation. She was powerful, that he saw. He doubted the Nobles could keep her for long, but even still he could not underestimate them. The Three Sisters had been bound under vampire ruling before, a vampire that had been younger than they. It was not impossible. And if she could be harnessed as well, it would not be good for the humans.

Perhaps he should pace things up a bit. He pulled up on the reins and urged the automation forward.


End file.
